


Masters of Mayhem

by grumblesandmumbles



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Anal Sex, Biker Gang, Crimes & Criminals, Death, Death Threats, Explicit Language, Gay Sex, Gen, Gun Violence, Guns, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Motorcycle Gang, Motorcycles, Murder, Oral Sex, Porn, Prostitution, Racism, Racist Language, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slurs, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 16:52:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumblesandmumbles/pseuds/grumblesandmumbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're from a tough neighborhood, you learn early on that you survive in one of two ways: You either fight harder or you run faster. The Milkovich family have been the figureheads of a motorcycle gang for generations, and no one smart enough has ever crossed them. If you did, you learned from your mistake very quickly.</p><p>Ian Gallagher knew that something was missing from his life, but he didn't know what that something was until he started hanging around Milkovich Motors, auto shop and front for COURT, the uncontested leaders of the Southside of Chicago. But he got a whole lot more than he bargained before as he slowly entered their world and became acquainted with one Mickey Milkovich.</p><p>Shameless AU loosely based on Sons of Anarchy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ian Gallagher knew that something was missing from his life. He had struggled for many years to find his place, to figure out where he fit in. Being the third in a group of six kids, his wants and needs were often missed, if not completely ignored. Most of the time he didn't mind. He didn't need much. Hell, half the time he didn't even want the attention. Ian wasn't narcissistic like Lip, anxious and needy like Debbie, troubled like Carl, or young like Liam. He liked having the ability to come and go under Fiona's radar, even if he wasn't getting into the kind of trouble that would require her attention anyway.

He had never been much of one for trouble. Smoking the occasional joint, pinching something small from the local convenience store, sure. But hardly anything worth getting worked up about. Ian stayed out of trouble because he had goals, he had plans. One thing Ian knew about himself was that he was disciplined. He preferred order, routine, structure. A way of living completely outside the scope of what his parents and older siblings were used to. It was why he got involved in ROTC. Lip thought it was some patriotic trash, that Ian wanted to die for a country that thought he was "one of God's mistakes." But what no one understood was that Ian didn't care about the patriotism. He cared about the order, routine, structure. He liked the idea of living in a world where you were given a mission and expected to carry out your orders. He knew the stakes, and he had the discipline to keep his behavior in check before it could go anywhere he would regret.

So no one was more surprised than Ian when he went and got himself kicked out of ROTC. They had been away for a training weekend in Wisconsin and Ian had gotten caught having sex with another cadet after lights out. Upon their return to Chicago, he had been ordered to turn in all of his ROTC equipment. He had begged and pleaded for another chance, but it fell on deaf ears. As he left, he caused a scene that he thought would embarrass him for years to come. He had thrown things, screamed and yelled about "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," and had to be escorted out. That was a month ago, and he was no closer to figuring out what was next. Ian was 17 and had no plans of going to college. He wasn't smart like Lip, he wouldn't have his choice of scholarships and schools, and they couldn't afford to pay out of pocket. But more than that, he just wasn't interested. He had only ever thought of joining the Army, but he was pretty sure that dream was dashed, at least for now. He hadn't even told his family that he was out of ROTC, so he kept pretending to go and exploring the neighborhood instead. It was during one of these periods when Ian first took real notice of Milkovich Motors. 

Ian was passing by when he spotted Terry Milkovich standing out at the sidewalk and lighting a cigarette. Everyone in the neighborhood knew Milkovich Motors and their namesake Terry. They were the most rough and tumble motorcycle gang in the southside, probably in all of Chicago, and maybe even the entire state of Illinois. They ran the garage and were also rumored to run a chop shop, though no one could prove it. Even the cops didn't fuck with them. As long as they kept their dirty deeds far away or under wraps, they just went about their business as usual. Occasionally a new authority with a zest for change would come along and try to clean things up, but they quickly learned the trouble that would bring. There would be an uptick of crime and events until things eventually evened out again. It was just how it had always been. All the neighborhood kids had been taught from a young age to avoid anyone named Milkovich, and it was a lesson that was heeded, unless people were actually going to their shop for work or repairs. Despite the scary part of their reputation, they were also known for doing great work. The only outsiders they ever associated with were the few outsiders who had been allowed into their ranks, and they all traveled together like a pack. Their motorcycles were immaculate, always perfectly polished and not a dent, mark or scratch to be found. They all wore the same leather vests over their t-shirts, making sure you knew just who they were with. Ian wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but he found himself crossing the street to approach Terry.

Terry puffed at his cigarette and watched carefully as the tall redhead kid approached. He was impressed just at the fact that this kid was even coming to him directly. He knew the reputation he had, one he had carefully cultivated, and it was a rare occurrence that anyone came straight to him for anything. They always went to people beneath him first, earning their opportunity to work their way up to him. This kid just grabbed the chance, and Terry liked that. He inspected the kid, noticing the muscles that he was hiding, and put himself on guard in case there was about to be a problem.

Terry jerked his chin at the boy and said, "Fuck you want?" 

The kid looked him right in the eye (earning another point in Terry's book, if he was keeping note, which apparently he was) and replied, "Was wondering if you've got any work."

Terry took a drag on his cigarette, lingering with the butt in between his lips as he analyzed the kid in front of him. He blew the smoke out and said, "Doing what?"

The kid cocked his head to the side thoughtfully and responded, "Whatever you're looking for. Errands, stuff around here, whatever really."

Terry found himself liking this one already. "What's your name, kid?" 

"I'm Ian."

He offered his hand to Terry, who accepted it and noted with pleasure that this kid had a firm grip. Terry nodded towards the garage and started walking, waiting for Ian to follow, which he did. Terry said, "C'mon, I think we can find something for ya. Pay will be shit but there could be a chance to improve that if you play your cards right. I'm sure we've got some organizing shit around here, we're always behind on that. You can help the guys with basic tasks as needed. We'll see how it goes."

He led Ian into a cramped office, piled floor to ceiling with stacks of folders and a desk covered in papers, miscellaneous tool parts, and an old computer and phone. There was a teenage girl sitting at the desk staring at something on the computer screen. 

"Mandy, this is Ian," Terry said. "He's gonna be working here on a trial basis. Same deal as usual. Get him set up and give him some shit to do."

Terry clapped Ian on the back as he exited the office. The girl, Mandy, finally pulled her eyes away from the computer and looked over at Ian. She slowly ran her eyes down his body and back up again until she had reached his face.

"Well, you're cuter than the last one at least," she said. "You can start with trying to make some sense out of some of the files in here. As you can see, they're a mess. Filing isn't no one's strong suit around here. We don't really have a system for how to file things, so just come up with something that makes sense and run with it."

She stepped out of the office and lit a cigarette, leaving Ian alone with all of the files. He didn't really know where to start, so he just picked up random folders and flipped through them until he came up with an idea. He started separating them and making stacks as he went. By the time Mandy returned after what seemed like the longest cigarette break in history, Ian had gathered some steam and motored along.

Ian asked, "Do you guys have file cabinets?"

She motioned to another door and opened it, leading him into a storage room with a bunch of file cabinets from wall to wall. "This whole side is empty," she said as she showed him a row along the back wall.

He started grabbing the stacks that he had separated and moving them into the storage room. Mandy left him alone for awhile as he moved back and forth between the rooms, but finally she interrupted him.

"So what are you going to do with the files?"

Ian replied, "Well right now I'm separating them by year. I figured once they're sorted by years I'll sort each year by date."

She nodded, impressed. Not only was this Ian guy cute, but he also wasn't an idiot like the last one that Terry had given a chance. She checked the clock and said, "I think you should call it quits for today. Don't want to get too much done and have nothing left for us to give you right? You in school?" Ian nodded and Mandy said, "Come back tomorrow when you're out of class for the day. If Terry likes you, and I think he will because you seem to have a functioning brain, he'll give you a few hours a day for a few days a week to start. More if there's a need for it. So get out of here and I'll see you tomorrow." Ian nodded and headed for the door, stopping briefly to turn around and say goodnight before he left the office. Mandy didn't know much about this kid, but she knew she wouldn't mind watching him work every day.

\--------------------

The next day, Ian barely made it through his classes before he was rushing over to Milkovich Motors. He entered the office expecting to see Mandy, but instead was greeted by a surly young man when he opened the door. The guy jumped and said, "Who the fuck are you??" 

Ian froze in the doorway and replied, "Um, I'm Ian. I got hired yesterday to help out with shit around here. I was told to come back today." 

The guy finally nodded and said, "That's right, Mandy told me you'd be back. Sorry man, you just startled me, that's all. I'm Mickey." He leaned forward over the desk and offered his hand to Ian, who reached over and shook it. He couldn't help but notice how blue Mickey's eyes were. "Nice to meet you," Ian said. "Where is Mandy, anyway?" Mickey waved a stack of papers and said, "It's billing day, and I'm the only one in this entire goddamn family who can do math beyond 2+2, so it's my one day a week of office duty." 

Ian nodded, unsure what to do with himself now that the conversation seemed to be dying out. After a few awkward seconds, Ian finally said, "Well, I guess I'll go work on the filing." But Mickey was already pecking away at a desk calculator that hadn't been there yesterday, and didn't respond. 

Ian moved into the other room and set about organizing some of the files he hadn't worked on the day before. As he got them sorted, he would move back into the main part of the office and collect more files. He got so caught up in what he was doing that he didn't realize he was being watched until he had been about to get another stack.

He looked up and Mickey was in the doorway looking at him. "So, what kind of system you got going here?"

Mickey thumbed at a stack of folders as he asked the question and Ian replied, "I'm sorting them first by year, and then by date. Figure at some point I can go back once that's all done and make some sort of master list that can be sorted by invoice numbers, client names, whatever." Ian could see that Mickey was impressed.

"Well my sister got one thing right," Mickey said. "You're definitely not an idiot. And about time. I love my sister, but she doesn't organize anything. My brothers are too dumb and I just don't have time for this shit, so I'm glad someone is doing it." 

Ian shrugged and said, "Well it works out for everyone, I need the job so if you guys want me to file this stuff, that's fine with me." He grabbed another stack of files out of the main office and brought them back to be sorted out. Mickey moved back to the billing and they both minded their own business until finally Mickey told him it was quitting time for the night. Ian bid Mickey goodnight and left, stealing a peek back as Mickey locked up the office.

That night, Ian tried to sleep and found his mind drifting towards those blue eyes. _Don't you even think about it. Mickey Milkovich, the son of the biggest gang leader and crime lord in Chicago, are you insane? No, not even for one minute am I going to let myself go down this road, not even in my head._ But convincing himself of that would prove a lot more difficult than Ian could have imagined.


	2. Chapter 2

Mickey locked up the office and moved back into the garage towards his workstation. During the day he was tasked on whatever jobs came in for the garage, or he dealt with whatever pending club business needed to be handled. But night time was his time. He had been working on his passion project - A 1965 Harley Davidson XLH Sportster that he had purchased from an acquaintance in another club. Originally, Mickey had planned to restore the bike and sell it for a profit, but as he got closer to completion he started thinking that he might keep it for himself. He had fallen in love with this bike and it's clean, simple craftsmanship. He admired how it wasn't showy or flashy. His brothers and cousins didn't have his work ethic, and always left right at quitting time. Mickey liked just being able to work in solitude, enjoying the silence as he watched the bike slowly transform back to it's original beauty. He had the engine disassembled on the floor and was going through the parts, polishing each one and examining them for any damage. He took notes about what parts needed to be replaced as he went. 

After awhile, he realized he should take a break. Working with all those tools and small parts day after day took a toll, and he could feel his fingers cramping. He got up and grabbed the cleanest rag he could find, wiping the excess grease from his hands and tossing the rag into a bin full of them. He made a note to get someone to wash them. _Maybe that new kid can do it_ , he thought to himself. He plucked his cigarette pack from the breast pocket of his work shirt, shaking a cigarette out and placing it between his lips. He patted his pants until he found the pocket with his lighter, taking it out and touching the flame to the cigarette tip. He took a deep drag off it and tilted his head back, blowing the smoke up into the already stale air.

Mickey gently cracked his knuckles while he smoked, trying to loosen the joints back up so he could buy a little more time to finish what he was doing for the night. He was about done with his cigarette when he heard the rumble of approaching motorcycles pulling into the parking area. He moved to go outside and heard shouting. He hurried to the door and saw his father and uncles throwing fists at each other while his brothers and cousins tried to break them up. He tossed his cigarette aside and ran over to intervene. The younger men finally managed to separate the older ones and Terry yelled, "Meeting, now!" He stormed across the parking lot away from the garage and to the other building on their property, where they did most of their club business. Everyone followed him through the lounge area and back into their meeting room. They all took their designated seats around the table, Terry at the head with one of his brothers on either side. 

When they all settled in, Terry stood up to speak. He seemed to have calmed down, but the look in his eye betrayed the anger that was waiting just under the surface for the opportunity to come back out again. "When you become a member of this club, you know that there are rules that you have to abide by. You know that you have to own a bike, be able to fix that bike and be able to ride that bike. You know that we are your law and order, not the police, not the city or state, us. Your brothers in arms. Your family. I try to be a fair President, even a forgiving one. I try to make exceptions, bend the rules or overlook things. I tell myself that these little things don't matter, they don't hurt anyone. But when you make choices that negatively affect our club, something must be done."

He looked over at his brother Ronnie, who was scowling in anticipation of what was next. "When Ronnie first told me that our drug business was just down, that people just weren't buying, I believed him. Little did I know that he had allowed the fuckin' wetbacks to move in and push their product, cutting into our profits. Ronnie, you're our Vice President. What kind of example are you showing to our enemies, and to our own children, if you can't enforce our territory?" Terry leaned over and touched the patch on Ronnie's vest that said "Vice President." He stared Ronnie down and said, "When you wear this patch, it's supposed to have a meaning. It is not your right as a part of this family, it is a privilege. One that you are not living up to. I think this club may be ready for a change. I move that we remove you as our Vice President, have you join Lonnie as a Life Member, and vote in a new Vice." The younger club members all looked at each other, clearly uncomfortable with this development. None of them wanted to step on the toes of anyone in the older generation.

Lonnie, who was Ronnie's twin brother, had sat silently through Terry's speech, but now spoke up. "Come on now," he said to Terry. "Let's not do anything drastic, Terry. There is no need for this. We can remedy this problem, it will be fine."

Terry looked at Lonnie with a strange combination of pity, disgust and anger in his eyes. He placed his hand on Lonnie's shoulder and said, "Lon, you know there's no other choice. They always say that twins are so similar, but you know you have always been the smart one of the two of you. It was a damn shame when you had to step down as my Vice, I couldn't have had anyone better. Ronnie has never been up to snuff like you were. I'm sorry, it has to be done. And while I appreciate your sentiment, as a Life Member in this club, you really have no say in this anymore. I let you sit in on our meetings out of respect. Don't ruin that."

Lonnie shrugged Terry's hand off his shoulder in disgust and pushed himself back from the table. He got up and left without another word. As Terry watched him go, Mickey couldn't help but see the sadness and also what seemed to be some sort of amusement at the entire situation. It made his stomach churn. He looked over at his uncle Ronnie, who had stayed in his seat and was looking particularly defeated. When Lonnie was gone, Terry turned back to face everyone and continued speaking. "Well, I've made the motion. Now the club needs to vote." They all knew the vote was a joke, because none of them would go against their President. Terry turned to Mickey expectantly.

"Aye," he croaked out, avoiding Terry's eye.

Terry went around the table and the vote was unanimous to strip Ronnie of his title. Terry pulled out his pocket knife and cut the patch off of Ronnie's vest. When he was done, he gently placed a hand on Ronnie's cheek and Ronnie recoiled as if it burned. He left the room without saying a word.

Terry sighed heavily and hung his head, as if the weight of everything that happened was pulling him down. Mickey didn't buy that for a second, but he wasn't going to say as much. After a moment, Terry looked up and addressed the group. "We all know what this means. Now that Ronnie is out, I'll need a new Vice President. We also never bothered with filling our other positions, and I think it's time we do that. Our business is slacking and everyone needs to step up. Maybe if some of you had official titles, that would help you feel a sense of responsibility to this club. With that said, I would like to nominate Mickey as my Vice President."

Mickey looked up in shock. He was the youngest of all of his brothers and cousins, and had never expected to be put up for a vote. He wanted to argue against it, but he knew that it would backfire. The rest of them looked equally stunned, knowing that Terry's move was a slap in the face, but also knowing that they were powerless to fight it. Terry went around the table as a formality, but he knew that his move wouldn't be rejected. Mickey was voted in as Vice President unanimously. He set about affixing the new patch onto his vest while Terry continued nominating positions and the rest of them continued voting people in. At the end of everything, Mickey's cousin Tony was made Secretary and Treasurer, his brother Joey was made Sergeant in Arms, and his brother Iggy was made Road Captain. The rest of the crew were left as Patchmembers. Colin was the only one of Mickey's brothers who hadn't been given a titled role. He seemed offended, but he kept quiet about it. 

When the meeting was finally adjourned, Terry bid everyone goodnight. "Boys, I'll be at Garden Springs. Brainstorm some ideas for how to fix Ronnie's mess and we'll meet sometime in the next few days to come up with a game plan."

Garden Springs was the massage parlor they ran, fronted by Mickey's wife Svetlana and used as cover for their prostitution business. Terry was fond of sampling the goods and getting freebies where he could, and was a regular visitor. He went out to his bike and revved the engine, sending up a big roar and dust cloud as he shot out of the parking lot.

Once Terry was gone, Mickey pulled his brothers aside. "Guys, you know that was all Terry right? I wouldn't do that. If I thought I could, I'd have turned it down."

Iggy threw an arm around his shoulder and said, "It's cool, man. We know that was all Terry. Fuck knows what he's up to but I'm sure he's got something in mind. Not your fault."

Mickey looked at Colin and said, "I'm sorry, man."

Colin just shrugged and squinted thoughtfully. "I'm sure Dad has his reasons," he told Mickey.

Everyone slowly filed out and headed for their respective homes. Mickey went back into the garage to clean up the engine parts he had left out and locked everything up before he headed home himself. Once he got there, he peeked his head in and checked on Yevgeny, his son. The baby was sleeping peacefully in his crib. He took a few bills out of his wallet and paid the local girl who babysat for them. "Thanks, Debs. Did Svetlana ask you to come tomorrow?"

The girl shook her head and said, "No, she told me she's off tomorrow."

Mickey nodded and showed her out, wishing her a good night. She had been babysitting for them since Yev had been born, but for some reason Mickey was just noticing a resemblance in her that he couldn't place. She reminded him of someone, but he couldn't place who. He watched as she started to walk the few blocks to her own house. He always watched until she was out of sight. He knew who lurked in the dark, after all.

He came back inside and got undressed, throwing his dirty clothes in the hamper and turning on the shower. He waited until the water was nice and hot before he got in, leaving the door open in case Yev cried out for him. He scrubbed the day's dirt off his body, taking extra care to work on his hands. No matter how much he cleaned them, they were always a bit dirty looking. Such was the life of a mechanic. When he was done, he got out and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist and moving towards his room. As he pulled some boxers on, his cell phone started ringing. He picked it up and saw it was his father.

He groaned and swiped the screen to accept the call. "What's up?"

He heard Terry's voice through the phone and could tell immediately that he was drunk, maybe even high. "M'boy! How's it feel to be my Vice? I'm sure you're wondering why I picked you, right?"

Mickey knew he had to tread carefully during this conversation. He didn't want to piss Terry off. No one wanted to piss Terry off. "Yea, I was honored but definitely surprised. I figured you would explain though, so I was waiting to hear from you. Didn't want to make something of it around everyone, get their panties in a twist or some shit."

Terry snorted a laugh at that, and Mickey knew it was the right response. "Well son, I picked you because you're smarter than the rest of them," Terry said. "They're good soldiers, good button men. But times are changing, and if we're going to retain our power, we have to grow and change with the times. We need creative thinkers. You and I, WE are creative thinkers." 

Terry rambled on a bit more and Mickey half listened, murmuring noises of agreement when necessary, but he wasn't paying much mind. He knew Terry was wasted and would remember little of this conversation tomorrow. When Terry finally wound down and got quiet, Mickey knew he had to end this conversation the right way. "Thanks for having faith in me, Dad. I won't let you down. We're not going to let these fuckers step on our toes with no retribution." Terry agreed, the pride in his voice clear, and they said their goodnights. Mickey plugged his phone into its charger and laid down in bed, but he hardly slept that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've based the structure of the club on [the information here](http://samcroclan.webs.com/hierarchyranks.htm).


	3. Chapter 3

Mickey was working on a transmission repair when he heard his cell phone going off in his pocket. He wiped off his hands and pulled it out, getting annoyed when he saw that it was Svetlana. He swiped to answer and growled, "This better be good. Haven't I told you not to call me at work?"

He heard her snicker as she replied, "Trust me, you want to hear this."

Mickey listened for a minute, his amusement growing steadily. By the time he hung up he was fighting laughter. "Hey Gallagher," he called across the shop. "Wanna run an errand with me?" Ian had long finished the filing project, he had been there for a few months now, and had moved on to cataloging and inventory of all of the parts they had lying around.

Lately, Mickey had taken to involving Ian in minor errands and tasks. It seemed as if they may even be forming a friendship. Ian felt like they were all giving him a trial run, but he wasn't sure exactly what for. He looked around, unsure if he should leave his task, until Mickey insisted. "C'mon we don't got all day. We'll take the car. Let's get a move on!"

Ian put his clipboard on the shelf and jogged to catch up with Mickey, who was already outside starting the car. Ian got in the passenger seat and asked, "Where are we going?"

Mickey smirked and said, "To make friends with a cop who decided to give some business to the wrong rub and tug."

\----------

Tony Markovich had always led a straight and narrow life, a rarity in the southside. He had always wanted to be a police officer, ever since he was in second grade and his class went on a field trip to the local precinct. He remembered how authoritative the officers all looked in their uniforms, their guns and batons strapped around their waists. He was convinced of this career goal when he saw how wide eyed Fiona Gallagher was when an officer let her lock someone in the holding cell. She laughed with glee, admiring the responsibility of the officers as she handed back the keys. Of course, after all these years, he had forgotten the original motivation - He just felt as if it had always been something he wanted to do. So he had made sure to stay out of trouble growing up. He never even so much as stole a pack of gum from the local convenience store. But he had paid the price for all of this - He had his dream job, but he was lonely. He had acquaintances from work but no long time friends, no girlfriend. He had briefly moved in next door to the Gallagher family after finding out Fiona's deadbeat boyfriend was a criminal, he had even started dating a nice Laotian girl who moved in, but things had quickly went south and he found himself back at his mother's house.

He had only ever slept with two women, and his loneliness finally drove him to pay a visit to Garden Spring Spa. He entered and was greeted by a young woman with a Slavic accent, Russian he presumed. She called out and a handful of girls came out and lined up.

"You choose," the woman instructed him.

He eyed them nervously, feeling guilty before he had even done anything. He was about to just leave when he saw a petite brunette at the end of the line, with wavy hair and big eyes that looked like maybe they could shine if she remembered to laugh sometimes.

He pointed her out and the woman said, "You follow her to her room. You tell her what you want, you give her money, and then you get what you ask for. Questions?"

He shook his head and the girl stepped forward, taking his hand and leading him down the hallway. When they entered her room, she explain the options available to him and the prices, and he chose basic sex. She collected his money and flipped a switch by the door.

"What's that for?" Tony asked.

She replied, "Let's them know I'm busy."

He nodded and she reached for his belt. Once he was naked she started rubbing his body, giving him a gentle massage to get him in the mood. After a few minutes of this she began to jerk him off gently until he had a full erection. She grabbed a condom from the shelf next to the massage table and ripped it open, rolling it down over his cock and mounting him. The sex was fine, but when it was over, all Tony felt was regret. She had said and done all the right things, but it wasn't real and he knew it. It was mechanical. He got dressed and went to leave when he saw two faces in the waiting room he wasn't expecting.

"Tony?!" Ian couldn't help but think, _Oh fuck_.

He knew Tony and Fiona were friends, and the last thing he needed was for Fiona to find out what he has been up to. His family believed he was working at some store downtown. If Fiona found out that he was involved with the Milkovich family, she would probably kill him herself.

"Ian? Mickey? Jesus, you hanging around the Milkoviches now? Your sister is going to kill you, Ian. What the hell are you guys doing here anyway?"

Mickey crossed the room and clapped Tony on the shoulder. "Now, now! I just came down here to see which officer of the law was patronizing our _fine_ establishment! When my wife called to tell me there was a police officer here taking part in our spa services, I just _had_ to know who it was." Mickey motioned to Svetlana, who waved her fingers at Tony and smiled.

It all made sense now. Tony knew he was fucked and had no upper hand here, but he tried to remain calm. "Your place now, huh? Since when? Thought Sasha was the head mistress around these parts."

Mickey shrugged, a glint of amusement in his eye. "Well Tony," he said, "She was. Until she signed the business over to us and disappeared. Don't know what happened to her, never heard from again. It's a shame, really. Tough broad like that gave us about the only competition we ever had. Those Russians don't scare easily like the others do."

He paced back and forth slowly through the waiting room. Tony, Ian and Svetlana all watched, the two men with confusion and wary looks, but Svetlana with amusement. She had seen her husband like this before, and thought it was a good look. She knew he was setting Tony up for a fall and she couldn't wait to see it. If she had popcorn, she would have sat down with a bowl full of it. But instead, all she could do was watch and wait.

"See here's the thing, Tony. Most criminals try to hide their bad behavior, for fear of getting caught of course. They certainly wouldn't want proof of what they're doing, and understandably so. The difference here is that I've got my wife working here. My _wife_ Tony. The mother of my _child_. So even though we're participating in something... questionable... I still want her protected, of course. We keep our girls safe. You never know who might come in here. Which is why I went into my own pocket and had surveillance cameras set up all over this place. You know, just in case something ever happened and I had to figure out who to kill. Sweetheart, pull up today's footage."

He waved Svetlana on as she typed into the computer at the front desk. After a few moments, she spun the monitor around and the three guys watched as Tony gave the girl money and she began her services. Ian looked at Tony, stunned.

Tony was seething but still trying his best to keep it together. "Milkovich, you son of a bitch. Good for you, ya caught me. That tape's illegal though, you can't do anything with it."

Mickey laughed long and hard at the sentiment. When he finally caught his breath, he looked at Tony and said, "Give me a fucking break, Markovich. Of course this shit wouldn't stand up in a court of law. I'm not a fucking idiot. BUT I don't think it would serve you or your career well if it wound up in the police chief's hands, now would it?" The color drained out of Tony's face at the prospect. 

Mickey put on a sympathetic face and leaned closer, as if they were conspiring together on something. "Listen, I'm not an asshole. You're lucky I got a hold of this information and not my father. Here's what we're going to do. We're both going to keep our mouths shut about this. Occasionally, I may call in a favor from you. Nothing crazy, small time things, and you will help the club out. Don't worry, even with this in my corner, I'm not expecting you to do everything for free. There can still be some occasional compensation. Or you can come back here and have some time with one of our ladies on the house. Svetlana, put a copy of the video on a thumb drive for me."

She moved behind the counter again and did as she was asked, handing it to Mickey. He held it up for Tony to see. "This is my insurance policy. This is our contract. You come through for me in a few pinches and I will give this to you. Go watch as Svetlana deletes it off the system."

Tony moved behind the counter and did just that, looking back at Mickey when it appeared to be done. "This will be the only copy. When I think it's time, I will give it to you and you can destroy it. Hell, if this partnership proves to be lucrative enough, maybe you'll even choose to work with us some more without this lingering over your head." He shoved the thumb drive in his pocket and motioned to Ian that they were leaving. As he was about to go out the door, he looked back and said, "Pleasure doing business with you, Tony. And keep your mouth shut about what you think you know about Ian to his family. Otherwise, you may have to explain how you ran into him, or they may have to find out through other channels. Either way, I don't think that will do you any favors with his sister, do you?" He waved to Tony and pushed through the door, Ian quickly following behind. 

When they got into the car, Mickey started hysterical laughing. "Man, I get amped up when I pull one over on some chump like that! Let's take a little detour before we go back to the garage."

He started the car and drove them through the southside. He stopped a few minutes later and parked in front of a complex of abandoned buildings. "C'mon, follow me." He led Ian into one of them and up a flight of stairs to the roof. There was a makeshift shooting range up there and a bunch of empty beer and alcohol bottles strewn about. "I come up here when I'm trying to get away from everyone. Shoot some targets, have some drinks, maybe even toke a bit. Clear my mind."

He takes his cigarette pack out and shakes out a joint he had hidden inside. "You blaze?" Ian nodded and Mickey lit the joint, taking two short hits back to back and passing it over. He held his breath for a few seconds before slowly blowing the fragrant smoke out. They passed the joint between them until there was nothing left of it. Mickey laid back on the roof and stared up at the sky. After a few moments, Ian did the same. 

Neither of them spoke for awhile, relishing their highs and taking everything in. Eventually, Mickey broke the silence. "I love the club and the garage, but sometimes I just want to be alone, you know?"

Ian made a small noise of agreement and said, "Yea I get it. I've got five brothers and sisters. My house is never quiet."

Mickey nodded in understanding. The silence took over again for awhile, until Ian broke it the second time. "So that was your wife before. She seems cool."

Mickey shrugged and said, "Yea, she's not bad."

Ian looked over and said, "Not bad? That's what you say about the sandwich you got at the diner for lunch, not the person you're married too."

Mickey laughed and replied, "Yea, well ours isn't a romantic marriage. It's one of convenience. I got her pregnant and so we got married. We're friends but that's really all it is."

Ian didn't respond. He had plenty of things to say or ask, but he didn't think that they would go over well. Mickey knew that Ian had something on his mind. "Spit it out, Gallagher."

Ian shrugged and said, "It's nothing."

Mickey scowled at him. "You've got no poker face. You gotta do better than that. Just come out with it."

After taking a moment to think of how he wanted to phrase it, he finally spoke. "I guess I just don't get why you married her. You could have always just given her child support or whatever." Mickey chewed at his lip, clearly uncomfortable. "Never mind Mick," Ian said, getting up from the floor. "It's really not my business."

He headed for the stairs and was about to head down from the roof when Mickey spoke behind him. "It wasn't a choice." He stopped and turned around, walking back slowly. He kept a watchful eye on Mickey, but the older boy wasn't looking at him. 

He had sat up and was looking out into the distance. He spoke softly, and Ian wasn't actually sure if Mickey was speaking to him, or to himself, or to no one at all. "Can you imagine what it's like to grow up in this world? I've always been surrounded by my father, my uncles, their friends, my brothers, my cousins. All with the same picture of what it means to be a man. You have to eat, drink, ride, talk and fuck like a man. When you are in this life, it is your be all and end all. And you had better be about the life or they will eat you alive."

He paused and took a cigarette from his pack. He offered the pack to Ian, the first indication that he knew Ian was there and listening. Ian sat down next to him and took one of the cigarettes, handing the rest back to Mickey. They lit their cigarettes and smoked in silence for a minute or two before Mickey continued. "I came home one night from a party and found Terry in a rage. He had found my porn... Male porn." Ian looked at Mickey with wide eyes, but didn't interrupt. "I walked in the door and he threw it at me. He said, _'You mean to tell me that the President of the toughest biker gang in Chicago has a faggot for a son?'_ and he beat the ever loving shit out of me. He wasn't going to accept that. A macho man, a man's man, was not going to accept that. Terry beat me so bad that Iggy and Mandy had to take me to the ER when they found me. At some point, he must have opened the front door and actually thrown or shoved me out, because they found me knocked out at the bottom of the stairs in the yard. I don't remember it. Spent three days in the hospital."

He flicked the cigarette butt away and pulled a flask out of his pocket. He unscrewed it and took a sip, offering it to Ian. Ian shook his head no. He figured one of them should try to stay closer to sober. Mickey took another sip and kept the flask in his hand. "When I finally healed up, he told me that it was time for me to get the faggot fucked out of me. He brought me to Garden Springs, this was when Sasha was still running things over there. He got me in with Svetlana and he stayed in the room while it happened. When she turned up pregnant, he was ecstatic. Like that somehow meant that I had proved myself or something, I don't know. Told me he couldn't wait for the wedding and to be a grandpa. So that decided it. If you learn nothing else, understand that my father is not someone you say no to, Ian."

He sipped again from the flask and then shook it, realizing it was empty. He screwed the cap back on and shoved it in his pocket. "Svetlana knows the truth, she's the only one. Well, and you now. If you ever say a fucking word I will kill you where you stand."

Ian stood, held his hands up in a defensive manner and said, "Mick, I'm not going to say anything, believe me." He looked at his watch and realized the afternoon was pretty much gone. "Come on, let's go. I'll drive you to your house and walk home from there."

Mickey nodded and Ian grabbed his hand to help pull him to his feet. They made their way back to the car and Mickey handed Ian the keys and told him the address. 

Ian knew where Terry lived, just a few blocks from his own house, and it turned out that Mickey was just a few blocks further, leaving Ian's house roughly in the middle of the other two. He parked at the curb and turned off the car, getting out and handing Mickey the car keys.

He started to walk towards his own house when Mickey grabbed his wrist and said, "Wait. There's something you should know." Ian stopped and looked at Mickey who continued. "Since you started working for the club, they've considered you what we call a 'hangaround.' The name explains itself. Usually the person is brought in by someone in the club so that everyone can get to know them and feel them out, see if they would be worthy of being one of us. Everyone really likes you. Eventually someone will propose a meeting to decide whether we want to introduce you in formally as a prospect for actual membership. I have no doubts that you'll pass the vote with flying colors."

Ian feels elated at this news, but the feeling is short lived when he sees that Mickey is struggling with it.

"You need to decide if this life is for you, Ian. We do have a brotherhood like no other, but it has it's down sides. It can be cruel, it can be ugly. You may wind up doing things that make you question whether you're a good person. You may just realize that you're not a good person, and that there is nothing to question. We're not all good men, but we're bound to each other. Some of us are worse than others, but that doesn't mean we can't all fall down that hole. And once you're in, there's no turning back. I'm really not supposed to tell you all of this, but I think of you as a friend. The only one I have as of now who isn't in the inner circle. I want you to have the time to make the right decision for you. I don't know when the vote will happen, but I wanted you to be forewarned. You can't breathe a word to anyone. No one, Gallagher."

Ian nods and Mickey claps him gently on the shoulder. He turns to walk home and hears Mickey speak one more time behind him. "Hey Ian?"

He stops walking and turns back around. "Yea?"

Mickey looked in his eyes. "Do you know why they call the club 'COURT'?"

Ian shook his head and replied, "No, why?"

Mickey bites his lip. "It stand for Chicago Original - Undisputed Reign of Terror."

Ian nodded slowly and said, "Oh, I wouldn't guess that."

He's about to turn around and start home again when Mickey stops him one more time. "Once you're in, the club is your court," Mickey said. "They are your judge, your jury, and if the need arises, they'll be your goddamn executioner."

At that, Mickey turned and walked away, leaving Ian stunned and watching him from the sidewalk.


	4. Chapter 4

Mickey closed the door and leaned back, his hands pressed flat against it and his breath shaking. He took a moment to gather himself and made his way through the house. He found Debs and Yev in the playroom and he greeted them, bending down to ruffle Yev's hair.

"You're back early," Debs said to him.

"I'm not staying," he replied. "Just stopping in quick, have something to take care of. Might be a late night, do you think you could stick around? I can pay you extra."

She nodded and said, "Sure, that's fine."

He thanked her and went to his room to get some clean clothes. He moved into the bathroom and got himself cleaned up and changed. By the time he was done it was nearly dark out. He took some cash from his dresser drawer and added it to his wallet, keeping a bill out which he offered to Debs.

"Here," he said as he handed it off. "Buy yourself some dinner. I'll try not to be too late." He bent down one more time to drop a kiss on Yev's head before he left.

Mickey debated taking his car but figured that wouldn't be a good idea. He had already been drinking and gotten high, and he figured he wasn't quite done for the night yet. He made his way to the train station and caught the next train away from the neighborhood. He stared out the window and watched as the southside slowly disappeared. When he finally got off the train, he looked around to make sure he didn't see anyone familiar. Not that the people he knew would be hanging around this area. He got off the train and entered Boystown. He skulked down the street quickly and with purpose. He knew where he was headed, and he didn't want to waste time. This neighborhood may be full of people who want the same thing as Mickey, but he doesn't think he could ever truly feel comfortable in a place like this. Out, open. He reached his destination and pushed through the door.

The bar was dim, only a few steps above the local dives that Mickey frequented in the southside, with the exception of having a crowd of men who put a bit more effort into their appearance. This wasn't a typical gay bar, and that's why Mickey had picked it. The crowd was more subtle and discreet. He sat down at an open bar stool and the bartender approached.

"Shot of whiskey and a beer, whatever's on tap," Mickey said, as he placed a bill on the bar top.

The bartender placed his drinks down and left his change. Mickey held the shot glass thoughtfully for a moment and then decided he better start this off before he lost his nerve. He took the shot quick and relished in the burning through his chest as the hard liquor made it's way through his system. He worked on his beer for a few minutes before getting the bartender's attention for another shot. He tossed that back just as quickly and felt his earlier buzz starting to return. Now that he thought he was ready, he turned to face out into the bar and see who was out there. Mickey scanned the faces in the crowd until he settled on one. The guy was moderately attractive, tall and a bit lanky, with long brown hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. He caught Mickey's stare and smiled. Mickey could feel the man's eyes inspecting him and he knew the guy was on the line. He jerked his head towards the back door and the guy nodded and moved in that direction. Mickey tilted his head back and downed the rest of his beer before following the man out, leaving his change behind. 

He pushed through the door and was in the alley behind the bar. The guy stepped towards him and said, "Hi there, stranger. You're a cute one. I'm-"

Mickey put his hand over the guy's mouth and said, "Don't talk, you'll ruin it. I don't want your name, I'm not telling you mine. Just get on me. You packing?"

The guy nodded and pulled a condom and lube out of his pocket. Mickey rushed to undo his belt, button and zipper. He quickly pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees and stood with his hands against the wall, spread and waiting. "You about ready there?"

The stranger nodded as he rolled the condom over his cock. He quickly lubed it up and eased into Mickey. He moved slow at first so they could catch each others rhythms before he started to pump faster and harder. Mickey braced himself against the wall and took it. The stranger reached around and started working Mickey's cock with his hand while he thrusts into him. Mickey watched the man's hand as it stroked him and noticed the dark arm hair. _It should be freckles instead._ He shook his head to drive out the thought and focused on getting off. Mickey pushed the man's hand aside so he could finish himself off instead. He jerked his hand as fast and rough as he could take it until he finally came, shooting his load onto the floor. The man thrust into him a few more times and finally came as well. Mickey pulled up his underwear and jeans, putting himself back together.

He could see the stranger was about to speak and he waved his hand at him. "Thanks for that, see you around."

He left the alley before the man could try to talk to him again. As he walked back to the train station, Mickey heard his phone ring. He took it out of his pocket and saw it was Iggy. "Yo," he said as he picked it up. He listened for a minute before he was given the chance to speak again. "Fuck. FUCK. Yea, I'm across town, I'll be there as soon as I can, just stay there." He hung up and flagged down a cab, climbing in and giving his address while dialing another number. "Hey, you busy? I need your help with something."

\--------------------

Ian was having a quiet night at home with his brothers and Fiona, watching movies and just hanging out. They hadn't really done this in some time, especially since he'd been working at Milkovich Motors. They were about halfway through the second movie when his phone rang. He saw it was Mickey and he stepped outside to take it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, you busy? I need your help with something."

"Not really, I'm home. What's going on?"

"I need your help on a job if you're up for it. We're short handed, a bunch of the guys went out of town on a run and won't be back for a few days. We need a driver, no heavy lifting or anything, just eyes and ears. You in?"

"Sure, where am I meeting you?"

"My house. I'll be there in 15."

The line went dead and Ian knew that Mickey had hung up. He went back inside and went upstairs to change. He threw on a black sweatshirt and his best running sneakers, just in case. He went back downstairs and said to the group, "Sorry guys, gotta run. I'll be back later."

Fiona asked, "Where you off to?"

Ian shrugged and replied, "Nowhere, just meeting a friend."

Lip eyed him suspiciously but didn't say anything. He left and was halfway down the block before Lip appeared at his side. The quiet fucker always had a way of doing that and startling Ian. "Jesus Lip, sneak up on a guy why don't ya!"

Lip lit a cigarette and said, "So, where are you really going?"

Ian rolled his eyes and said, "I have to take care of something, and I don't have all day to stand around here and talk with you about it."

He started to walk but instead of leaving it alone, Lip sauntered next to him. He finally stopped and looked at Lip, waiting for what was next. "Is it someTHING, or someONE you're taking care of tonight? Did you go and get yourself a new pedophile boyfriend?"

Lip was smirking in a way that Ian knows was supposed to indicate that he's joking, but Ian also knows that Lip intends it as an accusation. "No Lip, I stopped trolling the old folks home for sugar daddies. Can I go now?" He didn't wait for a response, just kept walking. Thankfully, Lip didn't follow him this time.

When Ian got to Mickey's house, he saw that Mickey was already outside waiting for him. He tossed Ian his keys and said, "You drive."

He fumbled to get into the passenger seat, Ian watching him. "Mick, are you drunk?"

The older boy shrugged and said, "Maybe a little buzzed."

Ian was a bit nervous to think what they were walking into with Mickey like this, but he didn't really think it was his place to say anything. He started the car and drove them to the garage. Iggy and Joey were there waiting for them. Someone had broken into the garage and trashed the place. What the fools didn't realize, or care about, was that every inch of this place was covered by security cameras. They pulled up the footage and saw just who was responsible.

Joey yelled, "Those fuckin' wetbacks! Guess they didn't like that we pushed back after they came onto our territory and thought they would get some revenge. Well we're going to fuckin' show them."

The brothers moved across the parking lot to the lounge and unlocked a cabinet. When they opened it, Ian saw that it was full of guns and ammo. He could feel the saliva in his mouth dry up, and his nerves peaked. Weapons didn't make him nervous, he had been in ROTC after all. But wondering what they wanted them for did.

"I know where their clubhouse is," Iggy said. "Ian will drive, he'll park down the block and we'll ambush. We'll back them up and we'll get our shit back. One and done."

The boys all nodded and Mickey chimed in. "Listen guys," he said, "Not too much rough stuff. We want to send a message, not incite the next street war."

They all agreed and prepped their guns. Once they were ready, they all got into the car and Iggy gave the directions. About a half a block before the location, they instructed Ian to pull over. They all got out and went to move on the house, but Mickey made them wait a second. He leaned down to talk to Ian quietly.

"Keep your eyes open. Make sure no one's watching you. Don't leave unless someone comes at you or we all get back here. If any of us doesn't get back, you don't leave until you know we're not coming." He straightened up and walked back to his brothers, the three of them proceeding to sneak up to the house.

Ian felt his heart in his throat. He had tried to deny his feelings about Mickey to himself since they met, but the more involved in the club Ian got, and the more time they spent together, the harder it was getting. When Mickey had talked about his sexuality on the rooftop, it had taken Ian everything he had to not confess everything right then and there. But he knew that he needed to let Mickey have that moment of honesty. Besides, just because they were both gay and just because he wanted Mickey, that didn't mean the feeling was mutual. He couldn't imagine what he would do if Mickey rejected him. He would probably never show his face in the club again. He heard a ruckus coming from the house but he stayed put as he'd been told to do. So far it was just yelling, nothing too ominous. He took a deep breath to center himself again. Suddenly there were a bunch of gunshots. He jumped out of the car, grabbing the keys and tucking them in his pocket. He knew he was supposed to stay with the car but if something serious happened to one of them and he didn't help, he would never forgive himself. He rushed quietly towards the house, keeping low behind the shrubs on the sidewalk. When he got closer, the brothers all came out of the house in a rush. They were running when suddenly Mickey fell. Despite his knowing it could be a bad idea, Ian ran to Mickey and pulled him to his feet. He dragged Mickey as fast as he could while Mickey hobbled along. They all piled in the car and that's when Ian realized it.

"Jesus Mick, you got shot?!"

There was a hole in the thigh of Mickey's jeans that was steadily turning redder. Iggy had hopped in the driver's seat and Ian got in the back with Mickey, applying pressure to the wound.

Joey said, "Fuck, what are we doing to do? We can't take him to the hospital, he'll get pinched. We had a doc on retainer with us but he disappeared."

Ian could practically feel the light bulb go off over his head. "I may know someone!" He takes his phone out and makes a call. He hangs up a minute later and says, "Drive to the garage."

Iggy pulls away from the curb and does just that. When they get there, a Jaguar pulls in behind them. "That's him," Ian says. "Put your guns away, don't need to scare the shit out of him."

The guys leave their weapons in the car and help Mickey into the lounge. The doctor examines Mickey and discovers that it's just a flesh wound. He removes the bullet and sutures the wound, bandaging it up and explaining how to care for and dress the wound until it's healed. They try to offer him some money but he declines. "The first one's on me, boys. You know what they say, any friend of Ian's and all that." He grabs his bag of medical supplies and leaves, Ian escorting him out. 

"Thanks for coming, Ned. I appreciate your help."

Ned checks Ian out, eyes roaming his body. "Oh you know it's no problem, Gingersnap. So is this what you're doing with yourself now that you don't take my calls anymore? Which one, huh?"

Ian's stares in Ned's eyes, no emotion, no anger, just stone. He juts his chin forward just a bit and his face makes it clear that he's done with this conversation. Ned shrugs and says, "I guess it doesn't really matter. Can't blame a guy for asking though. If you're ever interested in inviting your old friend Ned to play, just give me a call."

He strides to his car, whistling and swinging that medical bag of his. Ian watches him go, trying to figure out what he ever saw in him. He sighed and moved back inside. He pulled Joey and Iggy aside and said, "You guys go ahead. I'll take him home. He's just a few blocks from me anyway, I can walk from there."

Joey clapped him on the back and said, "Good looking out tonight, Gallagher. You did good."

Iggy nodded his agreement and the two of them left together. Ian went over to where Mickey was starting to doze off on the couch and said, "C'mon, time to get you home."

Mickey opened his eyes and said, "So how do you know that doctor? Seems kind of... smarmy."

Ian brushed off Mickey's question. "Oh, he's Fiona's boyfriend's dad."

Even in his state of being drunk, and in pain, and having taken pain pills the doctor had left with him, Mickey knew that something about that answer didn't sit right. "Awfully nice of your brother in law's father to rush out here. Why do you even have his number?" 

Ian started to squirm. He really didn't want to answer this question, but he didn't want to lie either. He was good at not giving up information, but he was terrible at lying when he was put on the spot. Finally he just came out with the truth. "Mick, I'm gay. I met him a few years ago at a club, before I knew he was related to my sister's boyfriend. Once it all came out, I stopped seeing him."

Mickey was quiet for a long time until he finally spoke. "So you're... You know... Too. Shit. Okay." He nodded to himself as if to affirm what Ian had told him. Finally he laughed a little and said, "What are the odds, anyway?"

Ian laughed too and said, "Fuck if I know. C'mon, let's get you home, you need to rest." He helped get Mickey up and outside, locking everything up and getting Mickey in the car.

When they got to the house, Mickey said, "Shit I forgot the babysitter is here. I have to pay her. Can you grab my wallet for me?" Ian reached into Mickey's back pocket, ignoring the rush he felt as his hand grazed ever so slightly over Mickey's ass. He pulled out the wallet and opened it. Mickey pulled out some bills, counted them and nodded. Ian put the wallet back and got Mickey into the house. 

Upon entering, they heard the babysitter approaching. When she came around from behind the wall, Ian almost dropped Mickey on the floor. "DEBBIE? DEBS?"

She looked at him with equal shock. "IAN?"

Mickey looked between them and said, "Holy shit. Debs, for the longest time I've thought you had a familiar look about you and I couldn't place it. Jesus, you two are brother and sister. How much weirder can this night get?!" He started cracking up and Ian moved him into the bedroom.

Debbie finally noticed what was going on and said, "What the hell happened? Was Mickey SHOT?!"

Ian laid Mickey on the bed and shooed Debbie out of the room. "Debs, you babysit for Mickey and Svetlana? Fiona will fucking kill you."

She narrowed her eyes at him and said, "No she won't because you're not going to tell her. Otherwise I'll just have to tell her where you've been spending your free time. Working downtown, huh?" It was clear they were at a stalemate. They both knew that neither of them would breathe a word. "Thought so," Debbie said as she collected the money from Mickey's hand. He had already passed out on the bed. "Besides, they pay well. Everyone else is too scared to work for them. It's quite profitable. But I'm sure you know all about that." She wiggled her fingers at him and left.

Ian sighed and went to get Mickey properly settled. He undressed him, taking off his bloody jeans and shirt and tossing them in the garbage. He opened some drawers, debating if he wanted to find something to put on him before giving up and deciding to just tuck Mickey under the blanket. He took a moment to admire Mickey's body, relaxed and vulnerable. He never looked like this when he was awake. He explored Mickey with his eyes, taking note of every mole and scar he saw. Finally, he pulled the blanket from under Mickey and gently swung his legs onto the bed. He covered him up and left, stopping in the doorway for one more look before he was gone, locking the door behind him and going home.


	5. Chapter 5

Ian barely slept that night and was up early the next morning. He hadn't been up that early since his days in ROTC. He really wanted to go and check on Mickey, but figured such an early arrival wouldn't win him any favor. Instead he got in the shower and got dressed, figuring maybe a run would help kill some time and clear his mind. He threw on some sweats and sneakers and left. Ian got lost in thought, feeling everything flooding through him. _I wonder if Mickey's okay. I hope I didn't make him uncomfortable when I told him about Ned. Maybe I should go by and check on him. No, I should probably leave him alone._ He ran faster, feet pounding the pavement in an effort to outrun his thoughts, but it was useless. He finally had to stop and take a break to catch his breath. He happened to be near a park, so he slowed down and found a bench where he could sit down. Ian was so far gone over Mickey Milkovich and he didn't know what the hell to do about it. He sat there for awhile, still obsessing about what to do, when finally his need to check on Mickey outweighed his urge to play it cool. He got up and made his way back towards the neighborhood.

A little while later, Ian was knocking at Mickey's door. When it opened, Ian was surprised to see that it wasn't Mickey or even Svetlana, but instead it was Debbie greeting him.

"You're here early," he said to her.

Debbie shrugged and replied, "Svetlana asked me to come, she had stuff to do and Mickey's still out of it. He hasn't even woken up yet. I think I'm babysitting him too. Not that he's doing much but I've went in a few times to make sure he's at least breathing." She stepped back from the door to let Ian in.

He moved inside and said, "Did you eat? I brought some bagels, there's plenty if you want." 

She nodded and led him into the kitchen, getting plates and utensils for them. He was about to sit down when he decided he had to do something first.

Ian asked, "Where's the bathroom?"

Debbie pointed in the general direction and he made his way. He killed a minute in there before pretending to finish, flushing the toilet and running the water in the sink for effect. He came out and tiptoed over to Mickey's room to check on him. Ian pushed the door open slowly, not wanting Mickey to hear it. He saw Mickey splayed out on the bed, blanket and sheet half off, his mouth relaxed and open. Ian marveled at how peaceful Mickey looked when he was sleeping. When he was awake, he was mostly either annoyed or downright angry. Even when Ian had seen him in a better mood, it was as if Mickey permanently had tension in his jaw. Ian suspected that he was probably a teeth grinder. So to see Mickey like this was very endearing, and Ian could feel his heart beating just a little bit faster. He was about to back out of the room when Mickey started to stir. _It's like he can feel it too. Jesus, that's ridiculous. I'm being ridiculous. I need to get a grip._

Mickey opened his eyes and the first thing he noticed was how badly his head and his leg hurt. _What the fuck? Did I get hit by a fuckin' train last night?_ He tried to sit up and everything felt really heavy. He was about to just close his eyes until he heard a familiar voice.

"Mornin' Mick, how are you feeling?"

Mickey turned his head and saw Ian leaning against the door jamb. "Gallagher? What are you doing here?"

Ian stepped into the room and said, "Came to check on you. Are you in pain?"

Mickey tried to nod but that made his headache worse, so he settled for making a seesawing motion with his hand. "Sorta. Can you get me some aspirin and water?"

Ian left and came back a minute later with two pill bottles and a glass of water. "Ned left these pain pills for you last night," Ian said. "Heavy duty stuff if you need it. Otherwise there's the regular aspirin."

He helped Mickey sit up and Mickey looked at him, clearly confused. "Who the fuck is Ned?" Mickey took the pill bottles and examined them to see what it was. _Vicodin. Tempting but probably not a good idea._ He took the aspirin and shook a few into his hand, tossing them in his mouth and chugging the entire glass of water in one shot.

Ian looked at him funny and replied, "Mick, do you remember what happened yesterday?"

Mickey thinks about Ian's question. _We hung out on the roof. I went to that bar and hooked up with that guy. I came home and met up with Ian. We went somewhere, where did we go? Pain. Ian picking me up from the floor. Ian's hands. Strong. Sure. I want to be touched by those hands._ "Bits and pieces," he finally said. "I know I was with you earlier in the day, we took care of the Tony situation. I was home for awhile and I went to a bar, but then I left. The rest is fuzzy. I saw you again at some point, right?"

Ian nodded and explained everything that happened. When he got to the part about Mickey being shot, Mickey threw the sheet off of him and saw the gauze bandage covering it. "Fuck, who doesn't remember getting shot?"

Ian smiled and said, "Well in your defense, you'd been drinking and Ned left you some pretty heavy stuff."

When Ian said Ned's name that second time, Mickey felt distaste. "Ned. There was something about that guy I didn't like wasn't there? Something didn't sit right. I feel it."

Ian closed his eyes. He had hoped Mickey wouldn't touch on that. He replied, "Well, you were asking who he was and you called him 'smarmy'." He could see Mickey starting to piece everything together, his memories slowly creeping back as they were triggered.

"I remember now," Mickey said, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed and slowly getting up. _Geriatric viagroid, fucking around with a kid._ Mickey made his way to his dresser and started looking for clothes. He tried to play it off, but Ian felt the shift in Mickey's mood, subtle as it was.

Ian couldn't help but ask, "Do you remember what we talked about on the roof?"

Mickey stopped, tensed up. "I remember," he said quietly.

Ian didn't want to push anymore. "I brought food if you're hungry. It's in the kitchen." He left Mickey to get dressed.

Eventually Mickey made his way out of the bedroom and joined Ian and Debbie in the kitchen. The three of them ate in silence. Debbie switched between watching one and then the other, trying to figure out what was causing this tension between them. Not counting the drama last night, the two of them had seemed fine with each other. She was curious as to what could have caused this shift, but figured it best to keep her mouth shut.

Finally, Ian checked his watch and got up from the table. "I've gotta get down to the shop, I have work in a bit. You need me to tell them anything?"

Debbie chimed in and said, "Svetlana called them this morning before she left. Iggy had already talked to Terry, they don't expect Mickey to come in."

Ian nodded and said, "Well alright then. Mick, I hope you feel better. I'll see you when you're back." Mickey nodded and Ian left.

"Debs, I'm going back to bed. If anyone calls, tell them to fuck off." He pushed back from the table and slowly made his way back into his room, flopping on the bed and passing out minutes later.

\--------------------

Ian had made enough progress with taking inventory of the stock that he was able to determine pretty quickly what had been taken the night before. "Well Iggy, they didn't really take much it seems. It looks like they were just trying to trash the place and grabbed a few things on impulse. Here's a list, I'm pretty sure this is all of what they took. You guys can compare it against what you took back last night when you busted in their place. See if you missed anything." He ripped the paper off his notepad and handed over.

"Thanks man," Iggy said. "Good lookin' out."

Ian had made a second copy of the list in case anything needed to be reordered and brought it into the office to leave with Mandy. She had been updated on the night's shenanigans already, so she took the list and put it on the bulletin board to keep in mind. "So Ian, I hear you were a big hero last night, running and getting Mickey after he was shot." She batter her eyelashes at him, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I wouldn't call myself a hero," Ian said. "I did what anyone would do."

She came around from behind the desk and whispered in his ear, "I think being a hero is pretty fuckin' sexy."

She slowly reached for the button of his jeans but he grabbed her hands and said, "Whoa, Mandy. I don't think that's a good idea."

She pouted at him and said, "What, worried about fucking around with big, bad Terry's daughter? He doesn't pay attention to what, or who, I do."

She tried to move towards him again but he stepped back. "Mandy, it's not that. I'm... I'm gay."

Mandy stopped in her tracks. "Seriously? You better not say that shit around here. They're not the most... accepting. Terry would probably have you killed."

Ian nodded and replied, "I know. So I'm sure you can appreciate that I trust you just by me telling you. And I'd appreciate if we can keep this between us."

She smiled and grabbed his arm, pulling him closer and hugging him. "Don't worry, I won't say a word."

Ian tried to distract himself with tasks around the shop, but he spent the entire afternoon thinking about what had happened with Mickey that morning. He wanted to fix it, but he knew that reaching out to Mickey would have the opposite effect, so he left it alone. About an hour before he was scheduled to leave, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that he had a text message from Mickey. He opened it quickly. _Hey, sorry if I was weird this morning. Was still out of it from last night I think. Need to talk to you if you can swing by after work._ Ian waited a little bit before answering, not wanting to seem too accessible. _Sure, see you in a bit._ He spent the rest of his shift puttering around, pretending to be busy with inventory, but really doing nothing. When it was time to go, he was out in a flash. Not long after, he was at Mickey's door for the second time that day. He knocked and eventually the door opened. This time it was Mickey himself greeting Ian.

"Hey, c'mon in." He motioned Ian inside and toward the living room. Ian listened and looked and it appeared they were alone.

Ian asked, "Where's Debbie and Yev?"

Mickey shuffled towards the kitchen, grabbing two beers and heading back into the living room. He offered one to Ian. "I had her take Yev to the park. Needed to talk to you alone."

Ian took the beer and popped it open, taking a long swig and placing it down on the table. "Okay, what's up?"

Mickey took a drink from his beer as well and started talking. "I had a visit from Terry this afternoon. He wanted to talk to me about formally putting you up for a vote as a prospect for the club. He wants to set a meeting soon. But there's rules for being in the club. You have to own a bike, be able to ride it, know how to fix it. You can get your permit and I can teach you how to ride, and I can teach you how to work on the bike. But do you have money to buy a scrapper and fix it up? We can front you some if you need, Terry himself authorized it. He's really gunning to get you in, he likes you. Have you put anything away since you've been working for us?"

Ian was very confused. "Mick, I thought you didn't want me to be in the club."

Mickey shook his head and said, "Ian, it's not that I don't want you in it. I just think you have a lot to consider with it, and I want you to be able to make the best choice you can. I have my good and bad with the club, but I also never really had a choice. I was born into this life. But you do. And if you do want to be in, or just have interest in riding a motorcycle, you need a bike."

Ian replied, "Well, I've managed to squirrel away some money. A few grand. Would be more if I wasn't handing so much over to help out with the family, but it is what it is."

Mickey said, "We've got a guy out in Ohio, he's always got good inventory, reliable bikes. He owes Terry a lot of favors, so he always gives us great prices. How would you feel about us taking a road trip and seeing about getting you a bike? We can take the car and if you find something you like, I'll drive the bike back and you can drive the car back. It's a five or six hour trip so we would have to stay at least one night, possibly two. You in?"

Ian thinks to himself, _Am I in? Is water wet? An entire weekend, alone, on the road, staying in a hotel? Fuck yes!_ "Yea, okay. That sounds good."

Mickey nodded and said, "Great, and your birthday is in a few weeks right?" Ian nodded and Mickey continued, "Okay, then would you be free to go this weekend? Terry wants you to have the bike before your birthday so you can jump right in to everything."

Ian agreed and everything was settled. They hung out for a bit, talking about nothing in particular before Ian finally left to go home. Mickey walked him to the door and said, "I'm not going in the rest of the week, gonna try to take it easy with the leg since we have a long weekend ahead, but I will see you Friday morning. Meet me here early, like 6am." Ian agreed and left.

Friday morning rolled around and Ian was at Mickey's bright and early as requested. Mickey offered to drive the first part of the trip.

Ian asked, "Can you drive with your leg like that?"

Mickey rolled his eyes and said, "First, I wasn't shot in my driving leg. Second, you better hope so, because if you find a bike this trip, I've got to drive it all the way back. You got your money right?"

Ian nods and pats his duffel bag. They climbed in the car and got on the road. For awhile, they were quiet. Ian was a morning person, so he's quite alert at this time of day, but he could tell that Mickey was just trying to concentrate on driving so he left him alone. But after about an hour or so, Ian found himself restless. He figured there was no time like the present to get to know each other better. Ian asked, "So Mick, were you ever with a woman before Svetlana?"

Mickey glanced over at him sharply and said, "What kind of fuckin' question is that?"

Ian shrugged and said, "I was just curious, that's all."

Mickey, clearly taken aback, replied, "Well that's a hell of a question. How many chicks have you fucked, Ian? Shit."

Ian smirked and said, "None."

Mickey glanced over at him again, this time more curious than annoyed. "Really? None? Huh, a gold star gay." They were silent for a few miles and finally Mickey said, "One. There was one other. Angie Zago."

Ian knew who she was, she had quite a reputation around the neighborhood and lived only a few streets away from him. "Did you really fuck Angie?"

Mickey nodded and said, "Yeah man, everyone fucks Angie." Ian really didn't know what to say, so he just said, "Hmm."

They were quiet again for awhile when Mickey broke the silence.

_"Angie was my best friend. We knew each other since we were kids. She was the only one who knew who my family was and didn't care. She wasn't afraid and she didn't want anything from anyone. When I started to realize that I didn't feel the same way about girls as my brothers did, I thought maybe if I just tried it with one that I would understand. I knew Angie got around, I didn't judge her for it. I figured that because I already cared about her, it would make things easier. I tried. I messed around with her a bunch of times, but it didn't make a difference. Now I understand it, but back then I just didn't get it._

Ian watched Mickey from the corner of his eye, but he didn't dare interrupt. Mickey might not talk deeply often, but when he did, he revealed a lot. Ian waited until Mickey continued.

_I don't think Angie knew I was gay, but she knew something was off. But with her it didn't matter. She didn't need to find my weakness and use it. She didn't judge me, and I didn't judge her. I never made fun of her weight, or talked shit about her fucking around, I just accepted her. What finally ruined our friendship was when it was time for me to be patched. Since I'm family, I obviously don't have to go through as much shit as a regular prospect would, but I still had to make my bones. She begged me to say fuck it, rebel, not patch in. But I didn't have a choice, not really. The day I patched was the last day she spoke to me. I've tried to go to her house, she won't come to the door. I've called and called, she doesn't return messages. Occasionally she would pick up the phone but she wouldn’t speak. I’d talk, but she wouldn’t answer. She only broke her silence once. I don't remember why, but I had gotten really drunk and I called her, this wasn’t that long ago actually. She had picked up and sat in silence. I think I went on for over an hour, and she stayed on the line. I could hear her breathe sometimes. Finally, she said 'I can't be here while you destroy yourself. I will always love and care about you, but please don't call me anymore.' And that was the last time I talked to her."_

Ian knew there was no good response, so he just said, "I'm sorry."

Mickey nodded and said, "Me too." They were silent for a long time after that.

\----------

Mickey pulled off the highway about halfway through the trip so they could use the bathroom and grab some food. Ian offered to take a turn at the wheel and Mickey accepted. When they got back to the car, Ian got in the driver's seat and Mickey slid into the passenger seat next to him. As they got back on the road, Ian wanted to make an effort to cheer the conversation up from where it had last been. "Well, I've asked you something. You can ask me something if you want."

Mickey thought about it and said, "Tell me about the first guy you hooked up with."

Ian said, "Well, it was actually someone from school. Do you remember Roger Spikey?"

Mickey laughed and said, "Donkey Dick? He was on the football team, right?"

Ian smirked and said, "Yea, and his junk lived up to its nickname."

This had them both laughing. As they drove on, they swapped funny stories with each other, keeping things light. The time Carl almost blew up the house cooking meth with Grammy Gallagher. When they had to bail Terry out of jail because he got high and broke into Shedd Aquarium to try to swim with the dolphins. The time Lip tried to have Karen go down on Ian to test if he was really gay or not. How as kids, Iggy had totally lost his mind when he found out Santa wasn't real, and hated Christmas to this day. The second half of the trip flew by and soon they found themselves at their hotel outside of Cleveland, Ohio. They pulled in and grabbed their stuff. Mickey got them checked in and got their room keys. They made their way there and when they opened the door, they were in for a surprise.

"There can't just be one bed," said Mickey. "I requested a double room." He called the front desk only to find out that was all that was available.

"Mick, it's not a big deal," Ian assured him. "It's just for a night or two. We'll make it work."

Mickey shrugged and threw his bag down. "You're right," he said. "In the meantime, we're not meeting the guy until tomorrow and I'm beat. I'm gonna take a nap and then we can see about getting some food and a drink or something." He kicked off his shoes and laid on the bed, curling up and soon snoring softly.

\--------------------

After they had both napped and cleaned themselves up, they wound up at a sports bar across the road from the hotel. They ordered burgers and beers and dug in once everything arrived. As they spent more time together, the silences between them became more comfortable. Neither of them were big conversationalists, though they managed pretty well. Mickey noticed a pool table in the back and motioned to it, asking Ian, "You play?"

Ian shrugged and said, "I have, but I'm not that great. I'm down for a game though."

Mickey raised his eyebrows and replied, "Oh yea? That all you down for?" He smiled that shit eating grin of his that he only showed once in awhile and got up from the booth, heading for the pool table before someone else could grab it.

_Did Mickey just flirt with me?! What the fuck was that?!_

Ian got up and followed him. Mickey racked the balls and broke them. They played for a few, Ian sinking a ball here and there but mostly missing. Finally, Mickey decided to offer him some advice. "Ian, you just have to focus. It's like shooting. You gotta line up your targets, factor in the angle and trajectory bullshit, and make the shot." Ian tried it and he sunk the next two balls in a row. Now that Mickey had put it that way, it made a lot more sense. They kept on for awhile before deciding to take a break and order another round of drinks. 

They sat back down at their booth and Ian figured it was time to see if that had been Mickey flirting before or not. "Hey Mick, can I ask you something?" Mickey nodded and waved him on. "What's your type? Like, what do you look for in a guy?"

Mickey glanced around as if someone were listening, clearly used to being paranoid about being open on any level. But no one was even in their vicinity, let alone paying them any mind. Once he had assured himself of this, Mickey rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. "What kind of girly question is that? I don't have a type."

Ian frowned at him and said, "Mickey, everyone has a type. What about guys you've dated? What did they have in common?"

Mickey squirmed in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "Ian, this is a stupid fuckin' conversation. Let's talk about something else."

Ian was finally starting to find Mickey's evasiveness annoying. "Whatever, Mick. You call me a friend, but you can't even talk to me about this shit? Forget it, I'm going back to the hotel." He stood up and started fumbling in his pocket for money to leave on the table.

Mickey's eyes widened and he said, "What? Shit, no, Ian, just sit down. C'mon, fine I'll tell you. Just sit down." Ian hesitated before slowly sliding back into the booth. Mickey sighed and said, "I've never had a... I haven't dated anyone. There you go. I've only hooked up with guys and the only thing they had in common was being guys. You happy now?"

Ian immediately felt bad about forcing the truth out of Mickey. _Shit, why didn't it occur to me that he hasn't really dated? He's so deep in the closet, I should have figured it out. Fuck._ "Mick, I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have pushed."

Mickey just shrugged and replied, "Whatever, it's fine. Let's get another drink."

With time and some more drinks, the mood lightened and things were mostly back to normal. That was the thing with Mickey, Ian had figured out. He may get annoyed or even angry, but if you just let him have his moment he got over things easy enough. Ian figured that's why he kept pushing for little bits of information, little bits of Mickey, because he knew that Mickey wouldn't really stay angry about it. Mickey had a nice buzz now. His eyes were glassy and Ian couldn't help but notice how it make the blue shine even more than normal. Awhile later, when they were both good and drunk, they decided to go back to the hotel to try to get some sleep. They stumbled across the road, laughing and roughhousing with each other. Mickey couldn't help but watch Ian. _He's so pale. Look how his skin glows in the moonlight. God he's so hot. I want to touch that skin, trace every goddamn freckle that kid has._

Mickey walked ahead of Ian and said, "You know, I never asked you what your type was back at the bar." He didn't want to see Ian's reaction. He was sure that it wasn't him, that Ian was involved with someone. _He was with a rich doctor. He can probably get whoever he wants. What would he want with the local neighborhood thug anyway?_

They were at their room. Ian stepped faster and came up behind Mickey, stopping him before he could open the door but not turning Mickey to face him. He rested his hands on Mickey's shoulders and tilted his head down to whisper in Mickey's ear. "I love dark hair. I like a guy who's tough, strong. I like a man's man. I like someone who is loyal and fiercely protective of the ones he loves. And, I am an absolute sucker for a pair of baby blues." He ran his hands gently down Mickey's arms, closing around his elbows and turning Mickey around. "You're my type. I want you, Mick. I've wanted you since I met you."

When Mickey finally looked up and met Ian's eyes, the dam broke. Mickey grabbed Ian's face and pulled him down, crashing their lips together. Ian returned the kiss and pushed Mickey up against the hotel room door. They stopped just long enough to fumble and open the door before they were on each other again. 

They wound up on the bed, exploring each other with their hands. Ian reached to unbutton Mickey's jeans when suddenly his hand was gently pushed away.

"I think we need to stop here," Mickey said. "I just don't want to jump into anything too fast. I mean, we have the club and our friendship, I just want to take this slow. Not make shit too complicated."

Ian nodded, brushed a lock of hair back from Mickey's forehead and said, "Doesn't mean that has to stop us from making out like two kids at the school dance, right?" Mickey laughed and pulled Ian down for another kiss.

_You couldn't stop me if you tried._


	6. Chapter 6

Mickey woke up to his head screaming in pain, which was only made worse by the blaring of his cell phone in the quiet room. He fumbled to reach for it and his fingers finally found purchase. He answered with a harsh "Yea," and the voice on the other end was not pleased.

"Where the fuck are ya, Mick? Shoulda been here an hour ago. I got a business to run."

He looked at the phone and saw the time. "Shit. I'm sorry Don, I slept through my alarm. We'll be there soon." Don started grumbling but Mickey cut him off before he could gather steam. "Relax Don, not like my family hasn't given you plenty of business and done plenty of favors for you over the years. Calm your tits, we'll be there soon."

He hung up before the other man could say any more and sat up. It was only then that he realized he was naked. _Oh shit._ He looked over and Ian was sprawled across the bed, also naked. Mickey rubbed his face and looked around. There was a nearly empty bottle of vodka next to the TV and everything started to come together. _We went back out, to the liquor store down the road, got the vodka. Came back here and got even more wasted... and fucked. Holy shit we did, we fucked. So much for not jumping into shit and taking it slow._ He vaguely remembered Ian asking him if he was sure about it, and him pulling Ian's pants off. _Jesus, I need to stop drinking._ Mickey finally got up from the bed and rummaged through his bag until he found some aspirin, grabbing a few of the pills and throwing them in his mouth. He stuck his head under the sink faucet to drink some water and turned on the shower.

He went back to the bed and poked at the snoring redhead. "Ian. Ian you gotta get up, we're late. **Ian.** Get the fuck up."

Ian finally stirred and sat up. He looked at Mickey, who suddenly remembered how naked they both were and quickly moved back into the bathroom. He got in the shower and let the water run over him for a minute before he grabbed a bar of soap and started washing himself. Without warning, the shower curtain moved and suddenly Ian was behind him. Mickey asked, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Ian leaned his head under the stream of water and started lathering shampoo in. "You said we were late, I'm just trying to speed this up."

Mickey kept his back to Ian and firmly told himself that he did not want to turn around and watch the water run over Ian's body. Ian's hand appeared over his shoulder holding the shampoo bottle. "Here, switch with me."

Mickey took the shampoo and placed the soap in Ian's hand. After a minute, Ian nudged him out of the way to rinse off and got out of the shower, leaving Mickey by himself to finish up. He leaned his forehead against the cool tile for a moment and wondered what he had gotten himself into here. He finally rinsed off and got out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist as he went to find clothes. They got dressed silently and went through the final motions of brushing teeth and fixing hair before they were out the door.

They drove to meet Don, Mickey staring straight ahead and not acknowledging Ian at all, and he couldn't understand what had happened. Ian hadn't done anything wrong, as far as he could tell. He thought they had a great time, and was definitely feeling put out by Mickey's attitude towards him. He tried to just let it go, but finally he couldn't take it anymore and knew he had to say something. "So, is this always how you act towards someone after you sleep with them?"

He saw Mickey clench his jaw, and it took a moment before Mickey responded through gritted teeth. "I dunno, usually don't see them ever again after we fuck. One and done."

Ian softened a little, realizing that he just didn't know how to handle these things. "Mick, if that's all it was, then fine. But you don't need to be a dick about it. No one did shit to you."

Mickey bit his lip and finally said, "Sorry, I'm not good at this shit. Never been in this situation before. Can we talk about this later? We're here."

Ian made a noise of agreement and they pulled into the parking lot. They stepped out of the car and went into the big warehouse in front of them. The place was full of rows of motorcycles. Ian had no idea how he was supposed to pick something from all these choices.

Mickey found Don and introduced him to Ian. They shook hands and he directed them over to a section of bikes. "I know you guys aren't looking for a fixer, you want something road ready. Gotta get it back to Chicago after all. These in this section would probably be your best bet. Take a look, find what you like and we can take it from there."

He left them alone while he went to deal with a customer. Ian walked through the rows, Mickey following behind, as they look over the merchandise. Ian stopped in front of one that caught his eye. He circled around it, ran his hand over the handlebars.

"Sit," Mickey told him. "You can't know if it's right until you sit on her and see how she feels."

Ian hesitated but finally straddled the bike. He couldn't explain what he felt, but it was right. It was just right. Mickey saw this and he whistled to get Don's attention. "Yo! Can we test her out back?"

Don motioned them to go ahead and Mickey encouraged Ian to bring the bike and follow him. He led Ian through the warehouse to a set of open garage doors in the back and took him outside. There was an area covered in flat top for them to practice on. Mickey started the bike and gave Ian a crash course on the mechanics of the bike, showing him where the clutch and the brakes were, and how to use them. He hopped on the bike behind Ian, pressing his knees into Ian's hips and keeping his hands lightly on Ian's waist.

"Go easy on her," Mickey encouraged. "You give too much gas and we're both going to be on the floor."

Ian did as he was told and the bike slowly started to roll. Ian gently accelerated to pick up speed and Mickey instructed him how to change gears. Don came out to check on them and Ian rolled the bike over. "You're interested in the 2004 Harley Davidson V-Rod, I see," Don said.

Mickey nodded and climbed off the back of the bike. "Let's talk numbers." Don nodded and the two of them stepped to the side. 

Ian turned the bike off and dismounted, dropping the kickstand bar down and propping the bike up. He paced around, trying to watch Don and Mickey without being obvious. They weren't arguing, but there was something very firm about Mickey's demeanor that made it clear he was calling the shots in this negotiation and not the other way around. Ian thought to himself, _I wonder what kind of debt Don owes to the club._ He knew it was better not to ask. He saw Mickey offer his hand and Don hesitated a moment before they shook. Mickey pulled a checkbook out of his back pocket ( _Where the hell was he hiding that?_ , Ian wondered) and a pen and filled in a number, tearing the check out and handing it over. Ian was confused, since he had a wad of cash tucked into his own pants pocket right now, but he still didn't approach. He figured he'd just give it to Mickey later. He saw Mickey asking Don something else and Don nodding and gesturing off into the distance.

Don went inside and Mickey came back. "He's gotta get the paperwork together, let's take a ride, I want to show you something." He motioned Ian to some ATVs that were parked there.

Ian followed him and asked, "Where are we going?"

Mickey pointed towards the forest behind the shop and replied, "You'll see." They each got on one of the ATVs and Mickey led the way down a path into the trees. 

They made their way through the thicket until they reached a clearing. There was a homemade gun range, complete with paper and bodied targets to shoot at and a rigged system to pulley the paper targets back and forth. Mickey opened the storage box on the back of his ATV and took out two handguns and some ammo. He offered one to Ian and kept the other, checking to see whether it was full. He set up one of the paper targets and moved it into position at the other end of the range. He aimed and emptied his gun bullet by bullet. He was a decent shot but his aim was a little off.

He looked over at Ian. "You want to try?"

Ian nodded and Mickey set up the target for him. Ian stepped into position and followed suit. He was a much better shot, and Mickey noticed right away.

"Shit, Gallagher. Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

Ian smirked at him and said, "ROTC. Did it for a few years in school." He stepped back to let Mickey have another turn. Once the target was reset and Mickey was about to shoot, Ian came up behind him. "Let me show you." He stood behind Mickey, his arms over Mickey's and his chin resting on Mickey's shoulder. "If you want to get the shot you want, take your time. Line it up. Check the sights and the target. You only want to move your trigger finger, nothing else. Put your finger on the trigger and squeeze, slow and smooth. Hold your body steady." 

Mickey was trying to concentrate, especially since he had a weapon in his hands, but feeling the whisper of Ian's breath on his ear was giving him a lot of trouble. Not to mention the tightening he felt in his pants. He squeezed the trigger and fired off the shot, the reverberation shaking him and nudging him against Ian. He didn't realize he had been holding his breath until it came rushing out of him. He hated that shaky quality he could hear, and he hoped Ian didn't hear it too. He lowered his hands and placed the gun on the ledge that was in front of him. Ian ran his hands up Mickey's arms and down his sides. He reached around and he could feel Mickey's erection through his pants. He palmed him through his jeans, eliciting a moan from Mickey that quickly made him just as aroused. Ian grabbed Mickey's arms and placed his hands flat on the ledge. He moved his own hands down and unbuttoned and unzipped Mickey's jeans, pushing them and his boxers down to Mickey's knees. Ian ran a hand up Mickey's back and pushed his shoulders down, so that he was bent over. He pulled the lube from his pocket and squirted some on his fingers. Without warning, he pushed two fingers right in, causing Mickey to wince. But Mickey always liked when it hurt. 

Ian made quick work of that before Mickey heard him tearing open a condom wrapper. Suddenly, he was pushing into Mickey. _Fuck, I didn't realize he was this big. I must have been really drunk last night to forget that._ He gritted his teeth until Ian bottomed out inside him, again holding his breath without realizing. As Ian began to slowly move in and out, he began to breathe again and move in rhythm. He felt Ian hit his prostate and he gasped at the sensation. Ian made sure to keep thrusting right at that spot. Mickey knew he was close and Ian was very quickly going to drive him over the edge, so he reached down and started jerking himself off in time with their motions. Moments later, Mickey came and Ian was right behind him.

They cleaned themselves up and went back to the warehouse. Don had the paperwork ready for them and they wheeled the bike out to the front.

Mickey handed Ian the car keys. "I'll ride the bike back, you follow."

He mounted the bike and started it up, waiting for Ian to start the car. When they were both ready, they headed to the hotel. By the time they had made it back there, their rushed morning and the fact that it was now afternoon had caught up to them, and they realized they were starving. They were also exhausted, and decided to just order in for lunch. They sat next to each other on the bed as they ate. They were quiet, but it wasn't awkward like earlier. After they ate, Mickey dozed off and for awhile, Ian just watched him. He couldn't help but notice again how much more peaceful Mickey looked when he was sleeping, unburdened by the worries of his daily life. Soon after, Ian felt his eyelids getting heavier and he moved so that he was laying down next to Mickey instead of sitting. It wasn't long before he was asleep too.

**Author's Note:**

> I always love feedback, so please let me know what you think! Comment here or come find me on [Tumblr](http://grumblesandmumbles.tumblr.com)! <3


End file.
